What I want for Christmas.

Every year he brings fuckloads of awesome stuff to my kids and all I get is a fucking stocking full of chocolate and Cheese and Bacon Balls.

Christmas is not Christmas without a Cheese and Bacon ball and mimosa breakfast after the turkey the size of a small child has been wedged into the oven. Obviously. But how about some loving for the bitch who put up 141619I lost count Christmas trees in your honour, Santa?

We all know that my Oscar Award worthy performance of ‘it is all about the kids’ and ‘I don’t need a present to be happy, I got Toblerone!’ is all fucking bullshit.

The Toblerone from last year is still sitting in the motherfucking cupboard cause I am not eating it under protest.

(Also cause MOTY gave it to me and said and I quote ‘it is past it’s use by date and tastes a little weird but it should be still good’ THIS IS WHAT PEOPLE GIVE ME SANTA! MOTHERFUCKING BOTULISM!)

I want presents under at least one of the damn trees Santa, or I will fuck you up.

And your little light up reindeer.

TWENTY THREE YEARS of making Christmas the best damn day of the fucking year for everyone else is worth some pampering.

So dude, I am making a list, you best be checking it twice or I will be tramp stamping that fucker on your arse while you sleep.

Stemless white wine glasses.

A whole day in bed where I get hot salty fries and donuts delivered as required.

A holiday where I get to spend the whole time in bed and hot salty fries and donuts delivered as required.

A weekend away where I get to spend the whole time in bed and hot salty fries and donuts delivered as required.

High Tea at a fancy restaurant in a fancy hotel with equally fancy rooms for one to spend the rest of the time in bed and hot salty fries and donuts delivered as required.

Gold Class cinema tickets and staying the night at a fancy hotel where I get to spend the whole time in bed and hot salty fries and donuts delivered as required.

A few nights at a beach resort with a balcony overlooking the ocean with a fish and chip shop and bakery within walking distance.

Hot salty fries.

Donuts.

Wine.

Tequila.

Red liquorice.

Red frogs.

White chocolate covered red liquorice bullets.

And don’t forget the fucking Cheese and Bacon balls.

Have you sent your list to Santa yet?

Does yours involve sleep and food too?

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This is the funniest thing I have read all week. If Santa fails to come up with the goods I will personally arrange for a handsome young man to deliver hot chips and donuts to your door. Because I am the fixer and can totally make that happen. 😉

I was in the city yesterday, my city-not yours, and saw something that made me think of you. I’ll zip back into town tomorrow and buy it, email me your address and I’ll post it on Monday. Gift wrapped.

I want a compost bin. And a nice pair of Peter Alexander pjs. And umm, bottle of Baileys. And some chocolate. And a new car. That’ll do. Pretty sure Santa can follow instructions at least with the compost bin.

YES to cheese n bacon balls (am I the only one that eats them by tossing them in the air and catching them in my mouth?? Yes? Erm, oh well…) and DOUBLE YES to red liquorice. I’m pissed off because as we speak I’m in transit home from a trip to NZ (thanks for the industrial action and subsequent free ticket, Qantas!) and found Darrell Lea strawberry liquorice far more reliably in supermarkets here than at home. And it was cheaper. WHAT THE HELL, AUSTRALIA!!?! (Also, New Zealand may or may not be currently experiencing a red liquorice shortage. Which I had absolutely nothing to do with. Just so you know.)

Regift the botulism to MOTY.
She’ll thank you for it.
Go easy on Santa…given how often MPS SANTA screws up your order you’re just as likely to get served a metric tonne of hot salty green beans in bed for brekkie.

Email your postal address. I will send you something good for Christmas.

(No, it won’t be me, personally, because whilst being UTTERLY FABULOUS and why wouldn’t you want me, I am also rather taken. But I make stuff. Yeah? Feel free. I’m RAKing all over the place at the moment.)

I feel your pain. #1Hubby gifted me the wine coffin last year. I shit you not. It is a semi-ornate wooden coffin that holds a bottle of wine. He paid more for the coffin than the bottle of wine he put in it. That bloody wine coffin is now going to make the rounds between family members every Christmas, as we gift it on as a piss-take present. You totally need to do that with the Toblerone.

Oh, I totally sympathise Kelley, however, there is a very simple solution that I can share with you: I buy my own presents, wrap them up and give them to Santa so that he can deliver – not more than anyone else – but the just the right amount:. A book here, a dress there, nothing too extravagant, mind. That way the 4000 million presents that I have personally sourced for Santa to give to my non-shopper members of the family are somewhat balanced on Christmas day and there is no need for me to re-gift a thing! Husband is off the hook as he knows I am happy with my presents and he didn’t have to agonise over it and everyone’s merry. Have a cool Yule.

There are four chimneys in this house and yet that bastard never brings me anything. Ok, so only one of the chimneys is currently open, but all that comes down it are wind, birds and the occasional European wasp *shriek*.

I would, however, like to put in a request for a Powerball win, thank you.